Senile
by ResidentOfCabin6
Summary: Everyone thought he was senile. It was kind of hard not to, the way he gripped his pen like a lifeline in dangerous situations and was always whispering about 'his Annabeth'. Admittedly, the screaming fits didn't help his case. And nobody was allowed near the hat or the necklace if they valued their life. Everyone thought he was senile, but I didn't. I wanted to know his story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Here's something that struck me one day, and I decided to write it while you guys wait for me to get my act together with my other stories. It will only be a couple of chapters long, but I felt like writing it, soo... Anyway, expect inconsistency, and I hope you like it!**

**\- ROC6**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you can recognize, rights go to Rick Riordan. This goes for all chapters.**

Everyone thought he was senile. It was kind of hard not to, the way he gripped his pen like a lifeline in dangerous situations and was always whispering about 'his Annabeth'. Admittedly, the screaming fits didn't help his case. And nobody was allowed near the hat or the necklace if they valued their life. The last one that tried nearly lost a limb. Everyone thought he was senile, but there was a look in his green eyes that kept me from agreeing. Not the look of a man gone mad, but that of a man that's seen too much. A man that's broken.

He was ninety six, and the last person that tried to get to know him was living in New Athens, so none of the campers know what to think of him. He taught advanced sword fighting, but otherwise stayed in his house unless absolutely necessary.

I went to visit him one day. It was a warm summer day, and I was sweating on the walk through New Athens to his house. When I arrived at his house, I was touched, but sad. The architecture was beautiful, but it was a home meant for a family, not a lonely old man. I held my hand up to the blue door to knock, but I hesitated. What if he was senile, like everyone said? No, I had seen something in his eyes that told a different story. I knocked on the door.

A moment later, he answered, and his green eyes met mine. They seemed too lively for such an old man, bright and swirling like the ocean. Most prominent on his wrinkled face, which was beaten and old like a fisherman's, or a demigod with a hard life, were the smile lines. Yet somehow, they looked old, as if they were no longer used as much as they were meant to.

His eyes were calculating, like those of my siblings, but they were the wrong color. I knew not to underestimate him, though, it was clear he knew exactly where to hit to take you down, and that he could do it, too.

"You're not another person trying to take me to an old folks home, are you?" He asked, his voice strong and smooth, contrary to the feeble sound I expected.

"No no no!" I exclaimed, "I just want to talk."

"Oh," he replied sheepishly, obviously embarrassed. He ran a hand through his hair, which was surprisingly all still there, if a little thin, and was the gray color of stormy seas. He gave a lopsided grin, "Sorry, then. Bad way to say hi. So uh, hi. I'm Percy."

Styx, is he _that_ Percy? I responded nervously, "Hi. I'm Silena Charles." I held out my hand for him to shake.

At my name, his gaze fractured and he didn't respond for a moment, before putting his hand out and shaking mine. His hand was strong and calloused, contrary- you know what, I should should just throw all of my preconceived notions of this old man out the window.

"Good to meet you, Silena," he kindly responded. He led me inside of his house, and the first room they came to was enormous. Surprisingly, the house didn't smell like old people, but like the ocean, and if you inhaled deeply enough, I could catch a whiff of a scent I'm all too familiar with. Books. He had me sit on the blue couch-I noticed that was becoming a trend-and went to look out at the ocean. The whole far wall was virtually a giant window, surrounded on both sides by a massive fish tank containing an assortment of aquatic creatures. It shouldn't have looked nice, but the architect must have been amazing because somehow it worked.

He turned around to look at me after moment, "What did you want to talk about?"

I ran my hands through my dull brown ponytail, a nervous habit I developed, "Everyone thinks you've lost your _skata_."

I started fiddling with my FlameAlpha7, setting it to holorecord the next events until I stop it.

"And your point is?" He asked dryly.

My fingers started running through my hair again, "I don't agree with them. Your eyes tell a different story. I want to hear it."

He let out a small laugh, "Smart girl. Daughter of Athena. My Annabeth would've liked you. In a way, your spirit reminds me of her." He grabbed an old Yankees cap off of the coffee table and started to fiddle with it. He didn't even seem to notice he was doing it, "What do you want to hear?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody sorry for the delay, but I really like this story and have been taking my time to make sure it doesn't become something stupid or poorly written. Sorry if the updates aren't as frequent as you would all like, but my life is busy right now and I want this story to be good. Hopefully I'll be able to update every week or two.**

**-ROC6**

"Everything," I replied eagerly, then decided to ask him a question I'd been dying to know the answer to, "Why do you always clutch that cheap pen of yours?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled an ancient ballpoint pen out of his pocket, "What, this?"

I nodded, and he laughed, "This is no ordinary pen."

I had opened my mouth to ask why, then he winked at me. He stepped away from everything in the room and uncapped the pen. A celestial bronze sword was in his hand where his pen had been a moment ago.

He smirked, "This is Anaklusmos." _Riptide_.

"Oh," I responded. He waited patiently for me to ask my next question, and eventually, I managed to pick one topic to discuss, "School. What was it like for you? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Oh, and just so I know, how old are you?"

He laughed, "Don't you know? Never ask someone old how old they are, it just depresses them. I don't really care, but if you'd asked…" Whatever he was thinking about hardened his gaze, and I was kind of scared of him at that moment. He took a moment to recompose himself, and put his silly grin back on his face, though it looked a little more strained than before, "I'm ninety-six."

Desperate to get away from the topic, I prompted him , "So, school?"

I know, great topic change, real smooth. Percy though for a moment, before saying, "I'm ADHD and dyslexic, and I hated school."

"Oh," as Athena's daughter, I had always tolerated school, even if I'm not a big fan of it myself, so to hear that he hated it kind of deflated me a little, "What was your school like?"

"All nine of them?" he queried, causing me to blanch.

"You went to nine different schools?" I asked, my face pale.

"Well, I got kicked out of eight of them," he said, matter of factly, and I decided to get off of the topic before he killed me with his thoughts on school.

Desperately, I casted out in my mind for something for something to say, another topic to discuss. After a few seconds, I snagged one, "How did you find out you were a demigod?"

I expected him to be taken aback by my abrupt topic change, but he merely winked. Then again, I'm a child of Athena, he probably was expecting it.

"I killed my teacher," He said with a troublemaker smirk. A voice that wasn't my own whispered in my head, _Cursed Sea Spawn_. Athena. Never have I been able to bring myself to call her mother. I must've visibly winced, as Percy looked at me worriedly.

"Athena," I said, and he nodded, as if that explained everything, "And please tell me she wasn't a mortal."

"Nope," He said, popping it, "my teacher was a fury."

I'm positive I looked horrified, but he carried on as if he didn't notice, or maybe he was just used to it, "And my Latin teacher-who was Chiron-threw me my sword, and I killed the fury, but I didn't find out I was a demigod until a few months later when my best friend-Grover-and my mom-"

He hesitated, but continued after a moment, careful to keep one of the walls out of his field of vision, "And my mom brought me to Camp Half Blood-back then the New Athens portion didn't exist-when we were being chased by the minotaur. I pulled Grover to safety, and the minotaur kidnapped my mom."

I winced, and he looked at me inquisitively, but I gestured for him to go on, "I ripped it's horn off and killed it-"

I gasped aloud, but immediately recomposed myself, "Then crawled to the big house. That was the first time I saw…"

His voice cracked a little, and his gaze fractured when he said the name, "Annabeth."

Percy stood up abruptly, "You hungry?"

I nodded, and he pointedly ignored looking at one of the walls while he marched out of one of the doors. I was about to follow him when I realized this was my chance to satiate my curiosity. I walked over to the wall that he hadn't been looking at, it had been driving me crazy, wanting to know what he was refusing to look at.

It was painted a light turquoise color like the rest of the room, but it had dozens of pictures hanging on. Each one was framed, with a number painted onto the wall beneath it. Featured in each picture was a boy with raven hair, and eyes that matched those of the man I was just talking to, and a blonde haired girl with eyes almost identical to my own. Some of the pictures had other people in them, but these two were always featured together.

In some of the earlier pictures, they looked like teens, but with one gray streak in their hair. Right around the middle, there were pictures that looked like family portraits containing the pair, now older, and people that looked suspiciously similar to them. Towards the end, you could see swirls of gray adorning their hair, but somehow, they still looked great. In the very last picture, I could clearly see Percy's smile lines, but they looked used, like they belonged on his face, not unused and ancient like they looked now.

I examined the numbers beneath the pictures. They began at twelve and ended at sixty-eight. That must have been their ages. I briefly wondered why they cut off abruptly, before realizing what that meant. It was then I noticed there was a letter crookedly tacked on the wall, written in the handwriting I recognized form some of the texts in my cabin.

I scanned it quickly, noting that there were extra pages hanging behind it, before considering the neat Greek written in blue ink. I stopped to see if Percy was coming, but after a moment's pause I couldn't detect any noise moving in my direction.

I knew what was on the paper was private, but I was so curious that I began to read anyway.

_My Seaweed Brain,_

_I'm so sorry you're reading this. I gave it to Hazel in case I suddenly went to visit your uncle, I wanted you to hear what I had to say._

_I love you Percy, more than anything in the world. I want, no, I need you to know that. But you can't join me. The fact that I've been taken means I've played my part, but the fact that you're still here means there's more for you to do. The world still needs you, and as much as you complain, I know you'll be there for it. I imagine my death will have hit New Athens hard and the seven even harder. They will need you, if you leave them too I can't imagine what will happen. I can see the scratchy rope tied 'round your neck, the water filling your lungs at your will, my knife sliding swiftly across your throat and wrists. Don't do it. I can't imagine how much it hurts. I've gone through countless papers trying to write this because I cried so much at the thought of losing you that they were rendered illegible._

True to their word, there are tear stains all around the page, but thankfully none ruined the writing so carefully written.

_So yes, I know you're in immense pain, but keep moving, keep going. Accept the comfort the seven are offering, don't put on your general mask. It'll break from the strain, but you don't have to. Keep living. Remember, I'll be waiting at the gates of Elysium for you._

_I love you, I love you, I love you. I'd jump into Tartarus again to keep you living. The world needs you more than I do, I can wait._

_I know you'll want to, but don't kill yourself._

I could hear footsteps, so I just skipped to the signature a couple pages later to confirm my suspicions.

_Your Wise Girl,_

_Annabeth Chase_

I turned to go just as Percy walked into the room. He looked shocked, and faster than I can register he had his sword at my throat.

"What were you just doing?" He growled, his face stormy and his gaze holding a look more accustomed to a mass murderer that tortured for fun than the easy going guy I'd been introduced to.


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, I know, slow updates, but school gets out in a week, and I'll be able to update faster from there, okay? Another reason this story in particular takes awhile is because I'm trying to make sure the writing on here is really good, and that you get chapters of a decent length and quality. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and if you think I'm moving the plot too fast or being too descriptive, let me know, okay?**

**-ROC6**

"N- Uh- I-" I started, but I couldn't figure out how to finish the sentences. Unable to meet his eyes, I looked down at my worn green sneakers (, Nike, of course).

He was glaring at me, I could feel it, and his glare terrified me so much I was afraid to look up. I could see his sword tip wavering, and I silently hoped he would lower it. It wasn't like I could attempt to fight him, besides him being probably the greatest swordsman ever to have set foot on Half Blood Hill, I hadn't brought any weapons into New Athens with me.

What was likely seconds felt like hours to me. That tends to happen when there is a pointy thing pointed at your face.

He lowered his sword slowly, its bronze shadow sliding slowly off of his face, and growled softly, "What. Were. You. Doing."

I finally found the courage to look up, and when I did I was surprised. His green eyes no longer held that bright and peaceful look. They looked like glass that had been hit by a bullet, cracks and fractures spreading outward. The lively color I had seen in them was gone, replaced by the shadows I hadn't noticed were hovering on the edges. They were dark, like a murderer's, and looking at them I would never have realized he was the same man I'd been talking to only that morning. The shadows on his worn face had darkened, giving him a haunted look.

He was looking everywhere except for my eyes, until I spoke, "She must have loved you very much."

I knew that probably wasn't the best thing to say, but I felt the need to say it. He finally looked at my eyes, and in that instant, he dropped to the ground like a stone.

He sat, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his sword lying a little under a meter away. His head was bowed, so I couldn't see his face. At first I couldn't figure out why his body was shaking up and down. I almost called for medics thinking it was a seizure. Then, I heard a sound. It started as quiet gulps and sniffles, but quickly escalated into full blown sobs.

I froze, this wasn't something I expected from Percy. I was afraid to move for fear of his scary side coming out again as he sat at my feet, his body racked by the great sobs. I had no clue what to do, so I just stood there awkwardly. Only moments later, the sobbing stopped. He sheathed his sword and stood up again as if that was a perfectly normal occurrence. Who knows, for him it might've been.

I noticed his face showed no signs of the tears he just shed. It was silent for a moment, "You have her eyes, you know. The same calculating gray. The look that says never to underestimate this person. The stormy gunmetal that told people that your anger could result in their death. But there's something else, too. You have a wholeness, an innocence she could never possess. Not after _that_ place."

I didn't know how to respond to that, though I had my suspicions to what he was referring to, so I stayed silent, and he said a minute later, "I miss her."

While a part of me wanted to say 'no, really?' I restrained myself. After a moment, he turned to face the wall I had been staring at before he walked into the room. The atmosphere in the room was clearly stressed, and my ADHD was screaming at me to do something.

Once again not thinking, I said the first thing that popped into my head, "So, how 'bout that food?"

"That sounds like something I would say," he commented, laughing, then added, noting my uncertain expression, "Don't worry, it's not a bad thing."

I gave him a nervous smile, and followed him into the kitchen. The more of the house I saw, the more it amazed me. It was beautiful. And sad.

Percy lead me down a corridor. It in itself was beautiful in its simplicity, and I was now certain that this house's designer was the same one that created the simple elegance of Mount Olympus, too. With white walls and a hardwood floor, it could've been in anyone's home. But there were personal touches, too, most of which screamed _Percy was here!_

Instead of a simple runner like I would've expected, the carpet was patterned with all sorts of aquatic creatures. The walls had portraits of family friends, I recognized the picture in the Athena Cabin from right after the Second Great War, the one where the most recent fire wielder in history returned having done the impossible. Another one showed the first Greco-Roman married couple, something quite common nowadays. The rest of the pictures were similar events, important things in the lives of the Seven.

The kitchen had a large floor to ceiling window on one wall, and a white tile floor. The walls were a pastel sea green, a color I'd noticed was second most prominent in the house, with blue being the first. Doing as any of my half siblings would, I noted all possible hiding spots and weapons located in the room.

Percy had me sit down at the kitchen table, which had a simple light blue tablecloth and was right next to the window I'd mentioned earlier. It had a perfect view of the Long Island beach. He walked over the marble counter and grabbed a plate piled high with about a dozen PB and J sandwiches stacked precariously on top of eachother. I was afraid Percy drop the sandwiches on the floor, but they somehow made it over to the table safely. How managed to fend for himself in the kitchen for so many years, I'll never know, as the sandwiches were sloppily made with peanut butter and jelly oozing out the sides.

Then, he walked over the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of grape juice. I was about to object that I wasn't five when he poured grape juice for himself, too. I closed my mouth. What surprised me, though, was how he could handle a sword unwaveringly, yet his arm did that strange elderly thing where it shook ever so slightly when he poured the juice.

We ate in silence for awhile, until I finally decided what question it was that I wanted to ask next.

"Would it be overstepping my bounds," I began nervously, carefully watching his reaction, "To ask what happened to her? Annabe-"

His head snapped up, "I know who you mean, and yes."

With that he stood up, leaving his half finished sandwich on the table, and stormed out of the room.

Subconsciously making the decision, I got up and followed him. He walked up the stairs and onto the second floor. By this time I felt as if I was invading his personal sanctuary, but I was determined to get my answers. I followed him as quietly as I could, trailing softly behind him, only catching glimpses of him as he turned corners. The path he took twisted around in circles several times, so I know he was aware of me following him. Eventually he gave up and stopped outside of a door.

On the outside the door was nothing special. It was made of plain wood painted white, and the doorknob was a polished brass color, as if it was used often. I sensed, though, that there was more to the door than it seemed. Percy was staring at it intently.

Without moving his head from his bowed position, he said, "You don't have to hover at the end of the hallway, you know."

I took a few steps towards him so that I was only a meter or so away from him.

"Originally, I was trying to lose you, yes, but then I thought about her, and how you'd probably love this room, too."

My confusion must have been evident on my face, as he chuckled, then his face grew solemn, "It hurts without her. A lot. So now, every time I feel sad, or lonely, or…"

I realized just how often that might be as he drifted off, his discomfort obvious on his face, but he began speaking again a few moments later, "So basically, coming here calms me. I haven't touched a single thing here in years, just walked in. It feels of her. I think I can make an exception this time, though."

He smiled at me, though, and I was completely taken aback. This man, whom I'd only just met this morning, already trusted me enough to show me his favorite room in the entire house, one that he hadn't moved anything within in years, and he gave me permission to look around and touch things inside of it. It seemed surreal.

I smiled back, "You sure?"

He just nodded, and I reached for the knob. The metal was cool in my hand. I turned it, and the door swung open silently.


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright guys, here's your next chapter! I hope you like it, and shout-out to Cynder2013 who got closest to what was inside the room!**

**-ROC6**

Percy watched the girl with amusement. She looked like a kid in a candy shop, her dull brown hair falling out of her ponytail as her mind ran a mile a minute. Her gray eyes were open wide, so much like Annabeth's. Oh gods, they were so much like Annabeth's. A pair of gray eyes glassed over, never to look at him again. Blonde hair streaked with gray falling out of a haphazard ponytail. Blood. Oh gods the blood, there was so much of it. The ambrosia cube locked in his hand, not able to help. There was nothing he could do.

He straightened up, removing his hands from where they'd been grabbing his head. He knew his outbursts scared the girl, he could see it in the way she looked at him. Thankfully, she didn't notice when the images flashed through his head. He looked out the large, floor to ceiling window, staring at the sea, just like he had many times before. The window seat was her favorite place in the whole house, and some of her sketches were still spread over it, faded from twenty-eight years of being bleached by the sun.

The girl-Silena, if he remembers correctly-had finished examining the drawing table and had moved on to Annabeth's wooden desk, after stopping to goggle at the bookshelves, of course, where she was staring at the laptop computer upon it indecisively. The girl looked at him with a question shining in her eyes and he made a go on gesture. She blew the dust off of it and fired it up.

"It requires a password," she said after a moment.

He smirked, "Try Seaweed Brain."

She didn't ask any further questions, so he assumed he had gotten it correct. He walked over to one of the bookshelves lining the walls and searched them until he found what he was looking for. Percy pulled out a handwritten book, significantly smaller than any other book on the shelves. He smiled in a melancholy way as he paged through it. It'd been so long since he looked at it. Her spindly handwriting greeted him, labeling various sketches and such she made as a teenager. Flipping until he found the one he wanted, he admired the curves and edges on the house she had designed bordering the sea. She had been blown away when she found out he had it constructed for them to live in.

The girl turned off the computer, "What happened to the rest of the seven?"

Percy looked out the window again, inhaling the musty scent of the study, "They died."

"How'd they-"

"How someone died isn't what matters. It's how someone lived," Percy hated when he had to bring out spiritual mumbo jumbo, but all this girl would ask about was how people had died. How could she not have gotten the message he didn't want to talk about it?

The girl had flinched at his tone, probably afraid he'd bring Riptide out again. He sighed, he had never wanted anyone to be scared of him, it went against his nature. He sat heavily on the window seat and looked through the sketches sitting there, sometimes squinting in an attempt to make out the lightly used pencil. Designs for buildings that would never be built. They made his heart ache with the thought of what he'd give to have her by his side. Or even to trade places with her, she was always so much better at being useful than he was.

_Was she happy? _he wondered, yet again. He knew there was nothing he could do, but all the same, he still felt the need to provide her happiness. Maybe she was partying with the seven, hanging with Luke. Had she apologized to Beckendorf for him? He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted her to have. Most of all, he hoped that she wasn't still waiting at the gates for him. While a small part of him desperately wanted to wish it true, the rest of him hoped that she lied, simply because he wanted her to be happy. After all, she was his everything, and if she wasn't happy, how could he be?

Percy clung to the hope she was happy, and pushed through day after day. He got up, and was about to leave, just as he had countless times before, when he saw movement. He turned sharply to look at the offending thing. It was a girl, with sharp, thin features and gray- Wait, she was from this morning. He let her up here. Percy forced himself to relax his muscles. He hated it when that happened and it had been happening more and more frequently, not that he'd tell anyone.

A thought struck him. Why was he being so trusting of this girl, going so far as to let her touch things in the most precious room to him in the whole house? He knew had she come even days before he would've been a lot more weary, so what was different? Honestly, he didn't know. It was almost as if a tiny voice in the back of his head was egging him on, _It's now or never, there's not much time left._

That made him even more nervous. He wasn't afraid of death. If anything, he was looking forward to it, as most of the people he knew already had died, but that didn't make him any less nervous. _Stay away from those thoughts_, he chided himself. He went over to see what the girl was doing. She had a plain piece of paper she must have pulled from a stack somewhere and was sketching with a charcoal pencil. He peered at the image over her shoulder. It was an image of him, as he must have looked a moment ago. Staring out the window at the sea with a sad, far away look in his eyes. He hated how sad he looked, but she captured it well. It was actually a pretty good drawing, not some amateur sketch of someone just pretending to be good.

"Are you planning to be an artist?" He asked her, and she jolted a little.

"I don't know," she said softly, still sketching on the paper.

He looked at her curiously and asked, not unkindly, "What do you mean, you don't know?"

She sighed, as though she'd had this conversation a thousand times already, "Just that. Maybe, possibly, I don't know. I like to draw, I like science, I like math. My dad wants me to be a lawyer or a doctor, my cabin mates want me to do something along the same lines. I can feel my mother pressuring me to make a decision. But I _want_ to be an artist."

He gave the girl a lopsided smile, "Well, there's your answer! Be an artist! You're good enough for it."

She gave him a tentative smile, "You think so?"

"I know so," he responded, still watching her her hand as it glided across the paper. Percy really was impressed that a girl her age-15? 16?-was able to draw as well as she did. After a moment she tucked the pencil behind her ear and held the paper limply in her hand.

Percy took that as his cue that it was time to go, "Come, let's go somewhere else. Maybe outside to the beach."

She turned her head, as she had been looking out the large window, "Sure, that sounds fine."

He was about to exit the room when she spoke again, "Why haven't you called me by my name since you said hello this morning?"

Percy froze, not wanting to reveal the real reason, "Because it's just the two of us here, what need do I have to address you by your name? It's not like you've done any different."

"But you've started all of the conversations," the girl countered, "That should warrant use of my name."

"Hey," Percy responded, vaguely annoyed now, "I told you my reason, it's not my fault that you don't believe me."

The girl frowned at him, and he could see the gears working in her head. Her face was slightly flushed, likely from annoyance at knowing that she wasn't getting an honest answer, and she was chewing her bottom lip, which must have been a habit of hers. She opened her eyes after a moment.

"You're refusing to meet my eyes, preferring to keep your gaze closer towards the ground, your voice sounds sad, and you took longer to answer than you usually do when you're answering honestly," she announced, much to his agitation. How the Hades could this girl read him so well? She'd barely known him for half a day!

"Alright, fine! You want to know the reason? Well here it is!" he said loudly, not quite yelling but pretty darn close, "Calling things by name shows affection, and I don't want to get close to you! A lot of the things I've gotten close to have died, and I can't sentence you to the same fate, alright? I can't let myself get hurt anymore, Silena! Just next time, leave it alone!"

Percy quickly turned his back on the girl and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
